


Reading the Signs of My Body

by hpdm4ever, MessiFangirl (hpdm4ever)



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Ardessi, FC Barcelona, Ficlet, Locker Room, M/M, Oneshot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, You know Arda loves Messi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 05:21:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7832032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/hpdm4ever, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/MessiFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Tired," Leo admits, raising his towel to wipe his forehead when he feels some more water trickling from his hairline. "But it's a good tired, you know?" Arda peers back at him curiously, and Leo laughs. "I'm glad I stayed late, is all." He pulls off the towel around his neck so he can bend over and rub at his hair. </p><p>When he straightens up, Arda is still watching him.</p><p>Leo licks his lips, knowing his cheeks are flushed. "What?" he asks self consciously. He tosses the damp towel into a bin and tries to smooth down his hair, thinking that it must be sticking up in all directions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reading the Signs of My Body

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, I don't even know. Okay, I do know. Ardessi is a thing. It exists. Everyone please write some.

Leo's not expecting anyone to still be in the locker-room when he gets back from his shower. He'd stayed late, spending a little extra time trying to curl in free kicks from the left side. Usually, that would be more Neymar's territory because of the angle, but Leo had wanted to practice anyway.

Couldn't hurt.

When he'd finally decided he'd had enough, he'd wearily trudged to the locker room and peeled off his clothes. Only a few people had remained, and Leo had waved as he'd headed off to the showers. He didn't spend overly long under the water, but still, as he wrapped a towel around his waist and walked back to his locker, he thought he'd be alone.

But there is one head that pops up.

Arda.

Leo smiles as a pair of dark eyes meets his. "Hey," he says quietly to his teammate, before continuing on to his locker a few feet away to get dressed. His hair is still dripping wet, so he grabs another towel from the pile on the bench to sling around his neck. "You okay?" he asks when Arda merely stares at him.

"Yes," Arda says, his voice low and throaty. He puts his phone down on the bench. "Just distracted, moving slowly," he explains, his thick accent making Leo lean in a bit closer to hear him properly. "And you?" He's not even dressed yet, wearing an identical towel around his waist, though he looks to be completely dry.

"Tired," Leo admits, raising his towel to wipe his forehead when he feels some more water trickling from his hairline. "But it's a good tired, you know?" Arda peers back at him curiously, and Leo laughs. "I'm glad I stayed late, is all." He pulls off the towel around his neck so he can bend over and rub at his hair.

When he straightens up, Arda is still watching him.

Leo licks his lips, knowing his cheeks are flushed. "What?" he asks self-consciously. He tosses the damp towel into a bin and tries to smooth down his hair, thinking that it must be sticking up in all directions.

But Arda doesn’t mention his hair.

“’Good tired’,” Arda repeats thoughtfully. "Yes, I know this feeling. When the body is tired, but the mind is happy." He nods, stroking his chin, never looking away from Leo. There's a strange glint in his gaze. "Only one thing to make it better, yes?"

Leo pauses, tightening the other towel around his waist. "What do you mean?" He's too tired to really think, ready to sink into his bed as soon as he gets home.

Arda smiles again, his eyes going soft. "When the body is happy, too, yes?" He tilts his head, looking at Leo, eyes suddenly brighter than Leo has ever seen them. "You know this feeling, of course?"

And while Leo is still staring at him, open-mouthed as he tries to determine what his teammate is saying, Arda stands up.

"I think you do not feel this enough," Arda says, taking a step towards Leo.

Leo doesn't move, and Arda walks closer, taking small, measured steps until they're inches from each other.

"Let me help you," Arda says, smoothing a thumb across Leo's bottom lip. "I want you to feel good," he rumbles, voice strangely mesmerizing.

"Arda," Leo murmurs, his heart starting to quicken. He doesn't pull away, instead discovering that his legs have turned to jelly beneath him. His chest begins to heave, betraying him, and he wraps his arm around his teammate's shoulders. "Arda," he says again, helplessly, feeling like he's dreaming.

And then Arda's hand is tugging at where Leo's towel is tucked against his skin, trying to undo it while the fingertips of his other hand start dipping to stroke the soft skin of Leo's stomach. "Shhhh," Arda whispers, nosing against Leo's temple. "Let me see you. Let me make you feel good."

Leo clutches at him, gripping his hair, his neck, his shoulders, eyes squeezed shut as he feels Arda pull the towel away. "I'm--I'm--," he gasps as it drops to the floor, while Arda presses him back against the lockers and murmurs something into his hair. The metal is cold against his bare skin, and he can't help shivering. "Arda!"

"Shhhh," Arda says again, kissing Leo's neck. His thumb traces Leo's hipbone, his other fingers spreading delicately across Leo's side, just barely touching the top of his ass. "You're alright," he croons. "I've got you." He’s still wearing his towel, but his knee pushes up between Leo's thighs, keeping him in place. "I've got you," he repeats.

And he does.

Leo knows he does. He trusts Arda—knows how strong he is. But even as those hands start to touch and caress him, Leo never feels frightened. No, Arda touches him like he's made of glass, like he's precious, like he's delicate.

And Leo melts against him, wanting it. “Please, Arda,” he whispers.

"Beautiful," Arda says, lips moving down Leo's throat. He sucks gently at one spot, worrying the skin with his lips and teeth and tongue until he's satisfied with whatever mark appears. Leo can only sigh and pant until he's done, trembling as Arda moves onto another spot and repeats the process again.

"Your skin," Arda says when he's done. He kisses each mark softly, a hint of laughter in his voice as Leo squirms against him. "So beautiful," he repeats admiringly. "Do you not burn in the sun?"

Leo's eyes flutter open, barely able to understand the question as Arda's bearded lips travel up to the soft skin beneath his ear. "No--I'm--I'm stronger than I look," he gets out, moaning as Arda latches onto him again. "Oh!"

This time Arda does laugh, after he's finished kissing another bruise into Leo's throat. His breath is hot against Leo's skin. "Oh, this I know," he exclaims, inhaling deeply. "You are the strongest and most beautiful man I've ever seen," he says, finally tilting his head back so he can meet Leo's gaze.

"You are poetry come to life," Arda whispers, hand petting Leo's stomach, ignoring the way Leo tries to protest. Perhaps he feels how Leo is trembling against him, overwhelmed with sensation, because he gentles his touch. His fingers are featherlight as they creep lower and lower. "I have never seen anyone quite like you," Arda admits, bending down to kiss Leo as he grasps his cock at the same time.

Leo cannot control the sound he makes in response, his entire body arching into Arda's hand. He doesn't even know when he became aroused, but Arda's hand is burning against his cock, jerking him off with long smooth strokes, thumb sliding slickly over the head and Leo nearly cries out in pleasure.

The Turk swallows the noises Leo makes, muffling them with his kiss. Arda's mouth is hot and wet, lips moving furiously against his, tongue flicking in and out teasingly. He kisses like he plays, knowing what he wants, forcefully devouring Leo until they're both breathless. "Beautiful," Arda pants out, once he pulls back, lips hovering over Leo's.

Leo shakes his head side to side. "I'm not," he gasps, "I'm not." He scratches his hands through Arda's hair, grabbing at the short strands.

"I do not lie," Arda says hotly, leaning back. His one hand continues to move over Leo's cock, using Leo's own wetness to ease the way. His other hand slides across Leo's hip, to the small of his back. "I do not know which is more beautiful. When you are out on the pitch... Or this," he says, grabbing a handful of Leo's ass.

Leo closes his eyes, lashes fluttering against his face, while Arda's hand squeezes lightly.

"You are tired," Arda says suddenly, cupping the plump cheek, massaging whatever he can fit into his hand. His fingers dip into the crease, teasingly, with the tip of one lightly stroking over Leo's entrance and making him gasp. "But another time," he says, voice full of want. "Another time I will have this... I will give you such pleasure..."

Leo shudders, a fiery burst of warmth building in his belly.

"Another time," Arda whispers, removing his fingertip slowly. His hand slides to the underside of Leo's thigh and hoists it up over his own hip. "Yes, another time, I'll fuck you just like this, against the wall." He mouths at Leo's neck again, rolling his hips slowly against Leo's, all the while keeping his hand on Leo's cock.

He's still wearing the towel, but Leo can feel his arousal underneath, feel how hot and heavy and thick it must be.

"I'm not that tired," Leo mumbles, tilting his head to give Arda more room, panting as those lips make new marks. He can feel the other man's laughter rumble through his body. One of Leo's hands slides down Arda's back to reach for the towel. "Take this off," he pleads, wanting Arda desperately. "Please, Arda."

"Shhh," Arda murmurs, dropping Leo's thigh to catch his hand. He tugs it away from his towel and holds it up above Leo's head up against the locker. "This is about you," he explains, moving his other hand faster on Leo's cock. "All about you, making you feel good, making your body happy," he says thickly, pumping Leo in time to his words.

Leo's sweating in earnest now, biting his lip to keep in his moans. The heat is all around him now, his climax rapidly approaching, Arda's hand relentless. "I'm--I'm--," he chokes out, hips arching, until finally, he spills between them, the fiery mix of pain and pleasure flooding his body.

Arda continues to stroke him, hand slowing until Leo's essence is all over them. "Fuck," Arda bites out. "Look at you." He slides his hand through the mess on Leo's stomach, raising it to his mouth to lick a stripe off his thumb.

Leo can only watch through hooded eyes, still trying to catch his breath as he comes down. He starts to slowly sag down the lockers, breathlessly laughing as Arda catches him and pulls onto his lap on the bench. “I didn’t know…” Leo says, running his hand down Arda’s chest, trailing off as he tries to find the words.

It dawns on him that Arda is no longer hard beneath him.

“Oh, but did you? Should I?” Leo asks curiously, fingers playing with where Arda’s towel is tucked in at the waist.

Area catches his hand again, bringing it up to his mouth. He kisses Leo’s palm. “I always find pleasure when my partner finds pleasure,” he says simply, eyes darkening when Leo’s lips part at the touch.

Leo blushes and hides his face in Arda’s throat, taking a deep breath when the other man skims a hand down his spine. “And another time, you’ll…” Leo trails off again, thinking of what Arda had promised. He can’t speak as he imagines Arda’s fingers sliding over his ass and—

Arda’s laugh is quiet this time.

“Oh, yes,” Arda says silkily, moving his hand up Leo’s back and threading into his hair. “The next time your mind is happy, and your body is not so tired… Yes, that is when,” he promises.

They lapse into silence after that, Leo breathing into Arda’s neck while the other man combs his fingers through Leo’s hair. It’s only when Leo starts to shiver that Arda begins to tug Leo out of his embrace. “You are tired,” Arda repeats, even as Leo shakes his head.

But Arda insists.

So Leo allows himself to be pulled to his feet. He’s barely aware that he’s naked, flushed beet red, skin sweaty and sticky. “I am tired,” he admits, swaying on his feet, letting Arda steady him with a hand on his hip. “But, tomorrow,” he says, flicking his eyes up at the other man, “tomorrow, when I wake up—I won’t be.”

Arda grins.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Short and sweet and smutty.
> 
> And now back to the other thousand fics I should be working on. xo
> 
> Pics from [here](http://lionelandresmessii.tumblr.com/post/138282444596)


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